Together We'll Make it
by AllThingsInsane
Summary: AU. After Crowley kidnaps Lisa and Ben, the damage done to Lisa is worse than anyone thought. With irreversible brain damage, Dean has to make a hard choice: Continue treatment or let her die peacefully. The events that follow, will shape their lives forever.
1. Chapter 1

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face as he considered the last several hours. It had been the day from hell, in the most literal sense of the word. Crowley, demon ruler of the aforementioned hell, had broken into his ex-girlfriend, Lisa's house, had taken her along with her son, Ben.

That had been hours ago, and Dean could still recall with perfect clarity how terrified Ben's voice sounded over the phone as he desperately searched for an escape route.

Dean himself had barely held it together as he instructed the scared eleven-year-old over the phone, what he should do.

It hadn't been easy holding it together long enough to insure their safety. Once he had visually laid eyes on them, he assumed it would be okay.

He would get them to a safe point, and go from there. What he hadn't anticipated, was one of Crowley's demon lap dogs to possess Lisa.

He had had no choice but to go through with a cleansing exorcism, acutely aware of the demon's every move as they moved in a sick sort of synchronized dance.

_You can go to hell, you black eyed bitch. _

That had been the mistake that had cost them dearly. Grinning victoriously, the demon controlling Lisa had plunged the dagger in her stomach.

He wasn't sure what his face looked like, but he knew that inside, his heart was breaking as he glanced over at the stricken eleven-year-old.

Finishing the exorcism was inevitable. No matter the injuries her body, they had to get the demon out.

They had.

Now they were waiting silently at the hospital in the waiting room. The doctors had long since taken her back for surgery on her liver.

That had been nearly three hours ago.

Glancing at the clock above the double doors leading to the back trauma area, he sighed as he glanced over at the traumatized child.

"She's fine, Ben. Your Mom is going to be just fine."

"I know."

Emotionless; detached.

All symptoms of a scarred kid, as he busied his fingers with anything that he could think of. Playing with the hem of his sweatshirt, playing with his hair, anything to keep his mind off of what was happening.

Dean wasn't fairing much better, as he glanced down at his cell phone for the millionth time. Sam had left them to go scope out the area, to make sure that it was clear of the demons that had terrorized it that night.

"Family of Lisa Braeden?"

Both Dean and Ben leapt from their seats at the exact same time, and rushed the middle-aged doctor standing there.

"Yes," Dean said. "Is she alright?"

From the tone and look of the doctor's face, he knew something was wrong, but a large part of his brain was in denial as he waited for the doctor to speak.

"If you could follow me back, I can explain."

Sucking in a deep breath, Dean turned to Ben, placing a hand on his shoulder as he directed him to his seat. "I need you to stay here."

_"What?" _Ben said incredulously. "Why?"

"Because I need some time to talk to him, okay? I'll come out and get you when we're through."

Ben had already been through enough trauma for one night, and Dean was afraid that he would have to go back and tell Ben what was happening to his mother, in a gentler and kinder way.

"Fine," Ben said, as he reluctantly sat back down on his once abandoned seat.

Digging in his pocket, Dean produced his cellphone, handing it to him as a form of entertainment to pacify him while he was away.

"Play on that while I'm gone."

"Okay."

Dean followed the doctor through the intermingling halls of the immense hospital, before finally reaching his office near the end of the hall.

"Take a seat," the doctor said.

His nametag read, "Dr. White."

"Look," Dean said, holding up a hand. "I don't need to know any medical lingo that's just going to fly right over my head. I need to know if Lisa is okay or not."

Dr. White shook his head sympathetically. "When we went in to correct the damage to her liver, she went into full cardiac arrest."

Dean certainly knew what _that _meant. It was when the heart and oxygen stopped.

"Is she okay?"

He was almost afraid to know the answer.

Dr. White sighed as he pulled out a complicated diagram of her liver and brain. "We went in and corrected the damage to her liver, which had a hole in it."

Dean swallowed back the bile in his throat, as he continued to stare at the diagram. Most of it made no sense to him at all, it was medical mumbojumbo that was foreign to him.

"Okay, and what about her?"

"Well, halfway through the procedure, her heart stopped normal sinus rhythm, and went into cardiac arrest."

Dean wasn't an idiot; he knew what that meant without any further clarification. Her heart stopped, oxygen ceasing to travel to her brain.

It could be fatal if not corrected in time.

"Is she alright?"

"We managed to revive her, but not before there was significant damage done to her brain."

That was the part he had expected, even though every inch of him had tried to deny it. Any kind of brain injury was bad, but when it was significant like the doctor was describing, he knew what they were facing.

"What's the prognosis?"

"Well, she's on life support right now. The hit her body took, was immense, and right now it's protecting itself the only way it knows how."

To shut down.

Dean sucked in a deep breath as he tried to see past the thick wall of grief that had been building around himself for the past hour.

"Can she be okay?"

"Not with this amount of damage to her body, and her brain. If you or her family decides to continue with treatment, it would only be enabling the functions she has, which is very little."

Lisa's family was dead. Everyone except her sister, and she was busy with her own life, and with her own child and husband.

He had already called her, explained what he could, and the odds they were facing, and she had told him to make whatever decision he thought was best for her sister.

"What functions does she have?"

"She can control eye functions, and limb movements, but talking and bowel control, those are gone."

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, as he raised a hand to squeeze the irksome tears away. It wouldn't do any good to break down now, it would have to wait until he could deal with it later.

Preferably with a cold can of beer at his side.

"Okay," he said, his voice stiff. "What would happen if we were to take her off the support?"

"The process would be very straight-foreword. We would remove the basic components keeping her alive, and wait. Sometimes it takes hours, sometimes only a matter of minutes."

"And she wouldn't suffer?"

She had already suffered enough for one lifetime thanks to him. If he could spare her pain in her final moments, he would.

"No. We can control that aspect of it with pain medication."

"Okay."

* * *

Walking down the empty hall toward the waiting area, Dean cowardly, almost backed out as he walked out to the near-empty waiting room.

He honestly had no idea what he was supposed to say to the kid. His mother was going to die, and it was his fault. If he had just left them alone, he figured, none of this would be piling on them.

"Dean!"

Ben had spotted him and eagerly had made his way over to the seasoned hunter, no doubt wondering if his mother was alright, and when he could see her.

"Hey, bud," Dean said, his voice thick as he put a firm hand on Ben's shoulder and steered him back to the chair he had just abandoned. "We need to talk about your Mom."

Ben's cherubic face creased together in confusion as he lowered himself back down, and watched as Dean took a seat next to him. "Why? What's wrong with her?"

"Um," Dean paused, taking a deep breath before he proceeded with his story. "Your Mom had some damage to her liver, and when they went in to fix it, she stopped breathing."

"No," Ben breathed. "Is she okay?"

"No," Dean said, his voice strained. "Her brain sustained some injury to it, and it's pretty much done. There's nothing really that can be done to help her at this point."

"So what-"

"Well, the doctor and I, we talked it over and we agreed that it would be best if we took her off the life support she was on."

"No," Ben said, his voice breaking as the normally strong little kid crumbled.

Dean hated him seeing him like that, and wanted to do anything to ease his pain, as he pulled him into a hug.

Ben laid his head against Dean's chest, his heart-wrenching sobs muffled against Dean's plaid shirt.

"I'm so sorry," Dean said, laying his head protectively over the top of Ben's. "You have no idea how sorry I am."

"When-when can I see her?"

"We can go right now."

* * *

As they walked into Lisa's private hospital room, and glimpsed Lisa lying in her bed, peaceful and seemingly only asleep, Dean tried to ignore the feeling of how wrong this was, as he and Ben each took a seat side by side next to her.

"Mom," Ben said, reaching out a hesitant hand and gripping hers. "Can she hear me?"

"I think she can," Dean assured him.

"Mom, I love you, okay? I'm sorry."

Dean gritted his teeth against the pain he was feeling, as he clasped Lisa's hand in both of his, as he pressed a kiss to it.

"I love you, Lise," he said, using his old nickname for her. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, honey. And I promise," he said, looking up at the stricken child. "I promise that I'll take care of Ben. He'll be okay."

All of the support that had been holding Lisa together, had been removed. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened, and both were acutely aware of that.

When the monitors attached to her heart began to beep, Dean stood, ready to call a nurse when a team of them already charged in.

"Mom," Ben sobbed, trying to reach her side, but was restrained by Dean, who held him back as they checked to see what was happening.

"Ben, shh, shh," Dean said, holding Ben against his own body, as he bowed his head over the inconsolable child. "I'm so sorry," he said, his own voice shattered.

"Time of death, 11:26 pm."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean stayed at the hospital long enough to complete funeral arrangements for Lisa, and answer questions from inquiring detectives, before he swiftly made a move for the exit.

Ben, clasped tightly to his side, as he continually sniffled and wiped his tears on his hospital sleeve. He didn't say much, not even when Dean, looking for a quick escape in leu of his Impala, snatched an older model car, and quickly hotwired it.

"We have a drive before we get to Sioux Falls."

Sam would be there waiting for him, along with Bobby. He couldn't fathom going anywhere else, especially not with how fragile Ben was.

Bobby's had always served as a respite from the dangers of the world, and had always felt more like a home to them than the countless motel rooms they had bunked in over the years.

Ben shrugged his answer as he leaned against the car door, his head resting on the seatbelt as he looked out the window, his eyes glistening with un-shed tears.

Dean sighed, wiping a hand across his face as he turned out onto the main road. Even though he hated doing it, a motel would have to suffice for the night.

He couldn't imagine making Ben endure an hours long drive to Sioux Falls. An (attempted) rest at a motel on the way, would be just the thing they would need to better themselves for tomorrow.

"We're going to find somewhere to hunker down for the night."

Ben nodded.

Dean watched Ben carefully as their journey progressed. Mostly, his tears had dried on his cheeks, and now he just looked exhausted.

He could hardly blame him for that.

Ben had been kidnapped, tied up, and then watched his mother become possessed by a demon that had ultimately killed her.

"Are you hungry, kiddo?"

"No."

At least he got a verbal response out of him.

"Okay."

Finally spotting a motel sign with a rundown establishment behind it, he turned sharply off the road and into the otherwise empty parking lot.

"Come on."

Ben sighed, not wanting to trade the warmth of the stolen car for the bitter cold outside. But he followed obediently as Dean checked them in at the front office, obtained their room key, and went inside.

"Sleep on the bed furthest from the door," Dean instructed, when he saw Ben look around the small quarters, clearly not sure what to do.

"Okay."

Dean himself was tired. He slipped out of his jeans and jacket, and collapsed on his bed that was closer to the door.

Soon, Ben's soft snores filled the otherwise silent room as Dean glanced over at the child. He had curled up on his side, his small body gently rising and falling in sleep.

It was a few hours later when Dean woke up. At first it took him several seconds to realize where he was, and what had transpired over the last day or so, but when it came back to him, he automatically glanced over at the bed beside him.

No Ben.

Sitting up straight in bed, and almost tripping over the covers that were tangled around his ankles, Dean made his way to the bathroom where the light was on under the door.

"Ben?"

No answer.

Dean tried the doorhandle. It was locked.

"Ben!"

He could hear Ben moan behind the door, before retching. It tugged at Dean's heartstrings, hearing the kid suffer the physical aspect of the shock he had gone through.

"Ben, unlock the door."

It didn't make him comfortable in the least that he was barred from entering the bathroom when Ben was so clearly sick in there.

He listened as Ben slowly made his way over to the door, unlocked it, and promptly made his way back to the toilet.

"Hey, bud, what's wrong?" Dean asked, sinking down to his knees beside him.

"What does it look like?" Came the snarky reply.

"Well, it looks like you're puking your gut out," Dean remarked dryly.

"Good guess."

Dean reached behind Ben for the rack of towels and washcloths. Wetting one, he handed it to Ben. "Here, put this to your forehead."

Ben nodded, taking the cloth gratefully. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem."

After a few minutes, Ben hesitantly left the toilet, leaning against the counter as he took several deep breaths to soothe himself.

"I feel so sick."

Dean nodded in sympathy. "Yeah, I see that. Tell you what, why don't you try to get back to bed, and we'll put a bucket beside it for you."

"Thanks.

With Dean's help, Ben stood, walked the few short steps to his bed, and climbed underneath the covers.

"Try to sleep, bud," Dean coaxed, getting a 7-Up from the mini-fridge and handed it to him. "Drink this first, okay?"

Ben groaned, gracing Dean with a withering look before taking the soft drink and taking a cautious sip of it. "Can I sleep now?"

"Yes."

* * *

Ben managed to sleep the rest of the morning. The same couldn't be said for Dean, who took the time to make one of several calls to Lisa's family, and lastly to Sam, who would be waiting for them to arrive at Bobby's later that day.

"Morning, kid," Dean said, when Ben finally stirred beneath the covers.

"Morning," Ben said, stifling a yawn.

"Feel any better?" Dean asked, lying a hand across Ben's forehead.

He didn't feel hot, which he took as a good sign.

Ben shrugged in response as he shrugged on his school sweatshirt, grabbed a soda from the fridge and sat down at the table in the center of the room.

"Are you ready to get going in awhile?"

"Yeah."

Once they had settled themselves at Bobby's for a few days, Dean wanted to go back and snatch some things from Lisa's house before the police had a chance to close it down.

While the trip would no doubt be difficult for him, he also knew that it would serve to be a form of therapy, looking through her things one last time, before closing the door forever.

"I think in a few days we'll go back to Mom's house and get some things for you. Sound good?"

"Yeah."

Ben turned from him, his eyes momentarily filling with tears before he tried to wipe them away. Even though Ben was normally a tough little kid, Dean knew it would take time before he even began to resemble his old self again.

Standing up, Ben went to put his can in the trash, and was met with Dean's reassuring presence, as he pulled Ben in for a tight hug.

Ben sniffled into his shirt, before he pulled back, clearly not comfortable with exposing that much of his emotions.

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah."


	3. Chapter 3

The drive to Bobby's was a long one. It took most of the day to get there, and for most of it, Ben remained a silent passenger as he silently accepted the food Dean offered him.

The only reaction Dean got out of him was when he put in an AC/DC tape. "I gotta say," Dean said, raising his voice over the loudness of the music, "this is their weaker album."

Ben rolled his eyes as if he had no idea what he was talking about. "No, it's not. It's one of their best."

"Then you need a lesson in good music, because this _blows_."

He was about to reach over and take the tape out, all part of his plan to bring something out of Ben besides silence, when Ben reached out a hand, barring him from taking it out.

"Don't touch it."

His voice was dead serious but Dean could detect a little of the playfulness that used to be Ben's primary trait, that and his obsessive womanizing, at only eight years of age.

"I wasn't going to," Dean said, laughing at the outraged expression on Ben's face.

"You tricked me."

"It worked."

Ben couldn't argue with that, so he didn't, as he listened to the music play.

"You know," Ben said, avoiding Dean's eyes as he spoke. "You know what the last thing I told my Mom was?"

"What?" Dean asked, keeping one eye on the road and one eye on Ben.

"I told her that I hated her."

Ben's voice, already weakened from his grief, sounded self-disgusted as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Why did you say that?"

"Because she was dating that Matt guy, and I wanted you back. She told me not to worry about it, and I shouted that I hated her, and right after that, we were taken."

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, as he considered Ben's statement. It was one thing to say that you hated your mother, and then make up for it a few minutes later.

Ben didn't have that chance. What he had said, he never got the chance to take back.

Dean could imagine what the kid must be going through, and he sympathized with him, especially when he saw the tormented look on his face.

"Ben, your mother knew you loved her," Dean said, after a few minutes of silent contemplation. "Don't ever doubt that."

"It still sucks that I never got the chance to tell her I'm sorry."

"You did," Dean said, "at the hospital. You told her you were sorry."

"Yeah, but I wish we could have talked it over."

"I know, but it's just one of those things that you couldn't help."

"I know. How far?"

"Less than an hour."

The trip had been exhausting, but had been manageable, especially when they stopped and got a chance to stretch out the kinks in their legs.

When the signs welcoming them to Sioux Falls flashed in their line of vision, Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

It would be nice to crash at Bobby's and not have to worry about anything other than going back to Lisa's and gathering her things up for Ben.

"Is this it?" Ben asked, once Dean had pulled off the road and into the concealed driveway.

"Yeah. Does it look familiar?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Dean had had to take Lisa and Ben there once before, when their house was under the threat of demons. They had only spent a few days there, but from what Dean could gather, it had been a pleasant adventure.

As they walked into the house, they could hear Bobby and Sam talking in the kitchen.

"Hey, guys," Bobby said, glancing over at Dean and Ben. "How was the journey?"

"A little rocky," Dean admitted, as he slid off his coat and hung it up. "What about you guys?"

"Everything was fine," Sam said. "All the demons must have cleared out after we ransacked the place."

"Well, that's something. Hey, Ben," Bobby said, turning his attention to the eleven-year-old. "How are you?"

"Good," Ben mumbled, before settling himself in the kitchen chair.

"He didn't have a good night," Dean whispered to Sam and Bobby. "It's been rough, to say the least."

"His Mom just died-" Sam began, but was instantly shushed by Dean. "Sorry."

It was obvious Ben had heard him, though. He bowed his head low as he played a game on his phone, a solitary tear leaking out of his eye.

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

Because of the limited amount of space in Bobby's upstairs floor, Sam took one room while Dean and Ben made do with sharing a room. It wasn't too bad, there was a kind size bed that would be more than enough to hold both of them.

To be honest, Dean harbored a secret suspicion that Ben preferred the close contact but just wouldn't admit it, out of a fear of being considered a wuss or a wimp.

When the lights went out for the night, Dean tried to fall asleep, tried to follow his body's natural path, but he couldn't. Now that it had been a day or two since Lisa's death, the reality of it was beginning to sink in.

She was gone.

Ben no longer had a mother.

And Dean would be forced to do the very thing that he swore to himself he would _never _do: raise him as a hunter, teach him all the ways he knew of to defend himself.

Not out of choice.

But out of necessity.

He would be damned if he let the same thing happen to Ben. He refused to lose Ben, too. It was out of the question.

A few hours later into his thinking, he was jolted out of it by Ben's quiet sobs that he had clearly tried to mask by burying his face into his pillow.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Dean reached over and quietly rubbed the boy's back in soothing circles.

"It's okay, Ben," Dean whispered, when Ben jumped at the sudden movement. "It's just me."

"I miss Mom."

"I know, kiddo, I know."

And the part that tormented Dean was knowing that he couldn't do anything to ease Ben's pain except to be there for him, to listen and help him through the mountainous task of grieving his mother's passing.

"I want it to be a nightmare."

"I know."

Acting almost on impulse, Dean shifted Ben's weight so that he was lying facing Dean, instead of _away _from him.

Ben didn't fight the move. He actually ended up snuggling closer to Dean as he drifted back off to sleep.

It made Dean feel better, knowing that he was able to provide some momentary comfort for him, but he knew that was only half of the journey. They still had an Everest to tackle, and he hadn't forgotten that.

Feeling his eyes begin to close himself, Dean didn't resist as he carefully inched himself lower down so as not to wake Ben.

"Dean."

Almost jumping out of his skin, he locked eyes with the last angel on earth he wanted to see.

"What are you doing here?" Dean hissed, carefully moving Ben aside so he could get up and face the fallen angel head on.

"I came here to apologize-"

"Apologize?" Dean asked incredulously. "Well, apology _not _accepted."

It was ridiculous that Castiel could go there and apologize and act like nothing had happened. Things had happened. Not the least of which was working with the demon that had ended up killing Lisa.

And where was he when all that was happening?

Nowhere.

"Dean, I said I was sorry and I meant it."

Dean shook his head, denying his statement. "I can't hear any apologies from you, Cas, because it doesn't change what happened. Lisa is dead, and a little boy is without his mother."

"I had nothing to do with what happened to Lisa and Ben-"

"I don't care. I want you to leave. You've done enough."

There was no way he could start on the process of forgiving Cas. At least not yet. The wounds were still too fresh to be bandaged, and he had a life besides his own to worry about now.

"Very well."

* * *

His confrontation with Cas was still bothering him the next morning, as he made breakfast for himself and Ben. Bobby and Sam were still asleep upstairs, and for once, the house was quiet.

"How did you sleep?"

Ben shrugged, halfheartedly eating his cereal. "It was fine."

"Good. I was going to go outside and work on the Impala. You want to come?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah."

Ben loved cars. Either it was a complete coincidence, or he was beginning to show a bit of the Winchester inside of him.

Either way, he proved to be quite the efficient learner as he expertly sorted through the tools that Dean requested he hand to him.

"How do you know what to look for?" Ben asked, as he leaned carefully against the car.

"It's an art," Dean said, from under the hood. "You have to listen to the noises she makes, and decide if they're good or bad."

"And whether it's smoking or not."

Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah. Exactly. So," he began, rolling himself out from under the hood, and turning to face Ben. "I was thinking of going back to your Mom's place, and grabbing some of your things. Do you want to go?"

"Sure."


	5. Chapter 5

Going back to Lisa's house, stepping foot over the threshold and into the place where she had been taken, Dean wasn't sure he was physically or emotionally strong enough to handle it.

The place held too many bad memories.

Saying goodbye (for what he thought was the last time, to Ben)

_You know you're walking out on your family, right?_

And Lisa being grabbed, Ben's frantic phone call to him.

_There's men in the house. They killed Matt. They got Mom. I hear them._

Each step felt like a thousand as he glanced around at all of the destruction that had occurred when the demons had broken in, plucking them like bugs out of their home.

Looking over at Ben, he saw the look of indecision and pain flash across his face. This place, too, would hold similar memories for Ben.

Some good; some happy.

Some, including his last memory there, horrific, traumatizing.

"Are you doing okay, kiddo?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Why haven't they cleaned all this up?" Ben asked, gesturing to the blood and broken glass that littered the living room floor, where most of the struggle had taken place.

"They will."

Truthfully, Dean was glad no one had come yet. It would make their job a lot harder if thy had to compete with the prying eyes of law enforcement.

"Can I go up to my room?"

"Sure."

While Ben went upstairs to retrieve his belongings, Dean searched the rest of the place, hoping to salvage anything he could that would serve as a memento for Ben to have later, when he was ready.

Most of the portraits in the living room were smashed, but he was able to snatch the photographs and put them in his bag.

When he stepped into Lisa's office, he went straight to her desk, looking through her file cabinet for anything medically related to Ben, in case he would have to use it in the future.

Sorting through dental records, pediatrician records, and everything in between, he snatched all of them, as he put them in his bag, and continued sorting through the immense cabinet.

Happening across a file that had Ben's birthdate stamped across it in block letters, he opened it curiously. It listed his full name, hospital name, and what time and place he was born at.

It listed his mother, Lisa Braeden as his mother.

Of course.

Dean was about to put it away, when he noticed the title below Lisa.

Listed as his father was "Dean Winchester."

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	6. Chapter 6

He was Ben's father.

Dean felt numb below the waist as he stared at the document and the words that had been printed in black and white. He, Dean Winchester, was the father of Ben Braeden.

Swallowing thickly, he glanced at the other information on the page. Ben, his _son_, had weighed nearly eight pounds seven ounces at birth, a big boy, and had spent time in the hospital for a brief case of jaundice.

Hadn't he always suspected that he was Ben's father? Even when Lisa had denied it? A part of him had always felt that extra pull toward Lisa and Ben, and now he knew why.

Stuffing the documents in the bag, he shakily got to his feet and went out into the main foyer of the house.

Ben was still upstairs grabbing the things that he would take with him.

That gave him time to call Sam, see if there was any way a demon could forge a document, make him go even more out of his mind than he already was.

He only had to press one button to get Sam on speed dial.

_Yeah, where are you? _Sam's voice said, coming on the other line.

"Still at Lisa's," Dean said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Listen, man, I need you to look something up for me."

_What?_

"Is there any way that a birth certificate document can be forged?"

_Excuse me?_

"Look, man, I-"

"Hey," Ben said, coming into the living room where Dean was standing. "I got my stuff."

"Look, I gotta go," Dean said, hanging up the phone.

He would have to tell Ben at some point, but he wasn't sure if he wanted that conversation to be right then, right at that moment when things were already stressful enough.

"Who was that?"

"Sam," Dean said, "just wanted to know where we were."

"Oh. We can leave," Ben said, clearly not wanting to spend another second in that house. "I have all my stuff."

"Okay, bud."

The duffel bag that Dean had given to Ben, was bulging with the items he had placed in it.

As they moved to the front door to bid the house farewell, Dean saw Ben discreetly look around at the house one last time.

"You ready?"

Ben nodded, swinging the bag over his shoulder. "Yeah."

* * *

When they got back to Bobby's that night, Ben made an immediate baleen to the upstairs bedroom, no doubt craving a good night's sleep after the excitement of the day.

Dean stayed up. He still had to talk to Sam about the document, even though he knew that it wasn't fake, that it was the real thing.

"So what happened?" Sam asked, handing Dean a cold beer as they sat down together at the dinner table. "You mentioned something about a birth certificate?"

"Yeah," Dean sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bunched up paper that he had stored there for safekeeping. "Look at this. It's Ben's birth certificate."

Sam took the wrinkled paper, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion as he read the information that was printed clear as day on the document.

"You're Ben's-"

"Yeah."

"I thought Lisa said that Ben' wasn't yours."

"Yeah, well," Dean sighed. "Guess what?"

As if he needed any more bombshells dropped on him.

"How are you going to break it to him?"

"I don't know, Sam, but right now, my energy is focused on riding him through this. I don't know how many more shocks the kid can take."

"You have to tell him, though."

"Dude, give me time."

"Okay."

* * *

Walking upstairs after his talk with Sam, Dean saw Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, video game in hand as he played.

"Did the zombies finally win?" he asked, coming in closer as he sat down next to Ben.

"No, the plants choked 'em," Ben said, not glancing up from his game.

"Well, here's hoping," Dean said dryly. "Listen, Ben, we need to have a talk, okay?"

"About?"

"Well, put your game down and we can discuss it."

Sighing, Ben put his game aside in order to listen to Dean. "Yeah?"

"I found something today when we went to your Mom's."

"So?"

Dean inhaled a deep breath as he tried to figure out what he would say to him. "I found your birth certificate."

"Okay."

"And your mother had put _my _name on it."

For the first time, Ben looked truly startled as he looked at Dean with those big brown eyes of his. "Your name?"

"Yeah, kiddo," Dean said, placing his hand on Ben's knee.

He found it slightly encouraging when Ben didn't resist the movement.

"So you're my Dad?"

"Yeah."

"Why wouldn't Mom tell me? Or you?"

Dean shrugged, considering Ben's question. He, himself, had pondered that exact question ever since finding out the truth.

A large part of him was angry at Lisa for denying him the chance to be a part of Ben's life, and more importantly, denying Ben the chance to have a father.

Another part just felt hurt.

"Maybe because she knew what I did, and she didn't want to expose you to that kind of life."

It was the only explanation that made sense to him. He knew Lisa and he knew that she hadn't been a selfish person, it had to be the only explanation.

"I asked her once."

"You _did_?"

"Yeah," Ben nodded. "After you saved me from those Changelings."

"And what did she say?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer.

"She got sad, and told me to stop talking about it."

"Oh. You know, Ben, just because I'm your father by blood, it doesn't mean that it has to be that way. You don't have to be with me if you don't want to."

After all, why would he expose an innocent kid to a life that like that? At least he was giving Ben an out, giving him a chance to live a normal life.

"No," Ben shook his head. "I want you to be my father."

"Okay, then."

* * *

**Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

Dean knew things couldn't stay this way forever. He knew that they couldn't hunker down at Bobby's permanently, even if the thought was highly appealing, it couldn't be done.

Hearing that he was Ben's father, that he had come so close to having the family that he wanted, that Ben _deserved_, only fueled his outright desire to track Crowley down and kill him for what he had cost them.

Lisa.

A chance at happiness; finally.

It had been a week since her death and cremation, and Ben had been making baby step strides in reclaiming some of his old personality back.

Some things were still hard.

A certain food that reminded him of Lisa.

A photograph or song that brought out the emotion, but those were normal things that Dean knew he would be able to accept and move foreword with.

It was getting him through the pivotal first year that Dean was concerned about. The pain, from his own personal experience, lessened after that, it became easier to go with the flow of things after that.

"Ben?"

Going upstairs and into the room that he and Ben had been sharing, he saw the younger boy perched on the side of his bed as he stared down at a photograph.

"Do you remember this?" Ben asked, passing him the picture.

"Yeah," Dean said, looking down at the photograph. "It was right after we moved into that house."

Ben nodded. "Yeah. I was happy there."

Right after he had arrived at Lisa's, he had suggested they move in order to avoid any possible problems. Ironically, he had been afraid of the demons getting to them.

It all seemed pointless, looking back at it.

"Sam and I were talking about shoving off pretty soon."

"Me too?"

"Yeah, of course."

Where they would go, he didn't know. Sam had already picked up a few potential cases, and there was still the pressing issue of Cas to worry about.

"Can I learn to shoot?" 

"Against my better judgment."

Raising a kid in the life like he had been raised, was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but fate had pressed his hand in the matter, and he had no choice and he realized that.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

And as much as Dean hated to admit it, Ben turned out to be a natural at the guns. Much like he was when he was that age, even younger, Ben targeted all of the cans that Dean laid out on the fence, and shot them with precise precision.

The victorious look on his face, was all the confirmation Dean needed that he was heading off on the right track with Ben.

"Did you see me?" Ben asked, coming back over to Dean's side. "I kicked ass!"

"Yeah, you really did, bud."


	8. Chapter 8

Setting off from Bobby's felt a little like leaving the nest. Especially since his salvage yard had served as a temporary home base for them, especially while Dean and Ben recovered from the shock of losing Lisa.

But now it was time to go.

They had a new lead on a case, and rumblings about Cas and what he was doing with Crowley. Dean definitely wanted to check up on that, as quickly as he could, as he revved up the car.

"I'll see you guys soon," Bobby said, standing beside the car as he looked in on the threesome,

"Sounds good, Bobby," Dean said, reaching out the window to shake the older hunter's hand. "Thank you for putting up with us."

"Ah, don't mention it, Dean. You," he said, looking in the backseat where Ben was. "Don't let these two idjits get the best of you." 

Ben smiled, perhaps the first genuine one that he'd smiled in days. "Don't worry about that."

"Ben, don't listen to him," Dean countered.

"Yeah," Bobby said, his face lighting up in a rare smile. "I suppose you gotta listen to your old man."

"I'm hardly hold-" Dean fired back, but was interrupted by Sam.

"We have to go. Thanks, Bobby."

Pulling out onto the highway, Dean was grateful to be back in the Impala. The car, through bad and worst, had become more like a home to them than any of the other stop motels along the way.

"How are you doing back there, Ben?" Sam asked, his head bent low as he studied the newest case they had.

"Good."

"We'll stop pretty soon and fill you up," Dean said.

"Okay."

"Where's the case?" Dean asked, glancing over at the papers that Sam had kept huddled in his lap. "And what is it?"

"San Antonia," Sam said. "Two kids were killed on this railway, and then a year later the same thing happened again. It's been a streak for the last twenty or so years." 

"Could be coincidence."

"No," Sam shook his head. "Not when there's a pattern."

"Well, do we want to shag ass or crash somewhere for the night?" 

"Crash," Ben volunteered from the backseat.

"You heard him," Sam said, pointing to the backseat.

"Alright, then," Dean said. "You want to stop now?"

"Sure."

Finding a motel that appeared even relatively safe, was a challenge. When it was just the two of them, Dean didn't really care where they stopped, figuring they could take care of whatever came their way.

But now he had a child to worry about.

He didn't feel comfortable just taking Ben anywhere, not with what had already happened to him.

Finally spotting one that appeared low on the radar, he pulled off the interstate and into the darkened, empty parking lot.

"Stay here with him," Dean said to Sam, before going into the main office and paying for their room.

"How often do you guys crash at motels?" Ben asked Sam, while they were still waiting in the car.

"Uh, pretty much all the time. What we do, it's not like we have an opportunity to put a down payment on a house or anything."

"Oh."

Ben didn't mind spending time in the motel room. It was something different, and he liked that.

Dean came back seconds later with the key to their room. Ben watched in fascination as the guys made him wait to enter, while they checked the room out.

"It's fine," Dean said, turning to look at Ben.

Ben nodded, before hesitantly stepping foot inside the motel room. It was a light, open space but small, like most motel rooms were.

But it would do the job alright.


	9. Chapter 9

Like most kids Ben's age, who were only used to sleeping in one bedroom, the transition from that to sleeping in various motel beds, the change would be naturally difficult.

Ben had slept okay the first night he and Dean had attempted it, but now that he had been spending most of his time at Bobby's, and had gotten used to his bedroom with the ceiling high textbooks, and rough flooring, the change from that to a quieter atmosphere was hard.

And since there were only two small beds in the room, they had to either share one or let Sam take the small love seat in the room.

And that would be no easy feat with his moose-like stature.

So, with reluctance, Ben and Dean snuggled up together on the single bed. It wasn't bad, and Ben would have much rather shared it with him than anyone else.

When the lights went out around eleven, Ben turned on his side, facing away from Dean as he brought the blankets up close to himself, trying to stay warm.

Sleep, though, became an impossibility. Each time he tossed and turned to get to a more comfortable position, he found it did little good.

"What's wrong, bud?" Dean asked sleepily, as he opened one eye in order to get a better view of the restless child.

"Can't sleep," Ben whispered, so as not to wake Sam.

"Oh," Dean said. "I'm sorry."

Ben shrugged, "that's okay."

Eventually, he would get used to it.

"Maybe we should start getting separate motel rooms for Sam and I, and you and I can share one."

"Whatever."

Looking at the clock on his phone, Ben was acutely aware of the fact that it was nearing five in the morning, almost an entire night's worth of sleep lost.

"Why don't you sleep," Dean said, groaning as he got up from his position on the bed and moved to the couch.

"It's pretty pointless now, right?" Ben pointed out, as he snuggled underneath the covers.

"No, we still have a few more hours before we have to move."

"Okay."

Dean's idea worked. Within minutes, Ben was asleep peacefully beneath the covers, oblivious to everything and anything around him.

He was even oblivious to the conversation that went on around him, as Sam and Dean discussed the upcoming case.

"So tell me again why this is _us_?" Dean said, as he folded his and Ben's clothing and put it in their respective bags.

"Two kids, Dean," Sam pointed out, "they were killed on a railway. They were playing on it or something, and they got hit. A year later, the same thing happened."

"So what?"

"It could be the spirits of the kids taking revenge on whoever hit them. Now, every train that comes across that railway, two kids appear."

"And they're the same ones?" Dean asked quietly, so as not to wake the sleeping child up.

"Apparently."

"Well, we still have a long way till San Antonio. We better get going," Dean said, looking regretfully at Ben, hating to wake him up.

"How did he do last night?" Sam asked, shifting his glance over at nis nephew.

"He couldn't sleep. Eventually, I moved to the couch so he could get some shut eye."

"Okay."

Hating to wake him up before he absolutely had to, Dean had Sam quietly move all of their things to the car and check them out before Dean attempted to wake him up.

"Buddy," Dean said, gently shaking Ben's shoulder. "Come on, we have to move."

Ben groaned, rolling over onto his other side as he reached out a blind hand to try to push Dean away. "No, sleeping."

Dean grinned, as he pulled the covers back away from him. "No can do, kiddo. You can curl up in the car, come on."

Looking at Dean resentfully, Ben got up from the bed, accepted his duffel that Dean handed to him, and walkedo out the door, fully intending on taking Dean up on his offer of sleeping away his lost hours in the Impala.

"Where are we going? San Antonio?" Ben asked, as they made their way out of the motel in the chilly morning air.

"Yeah, Sam found us a case."

"Can I help?" Ben asked, as he swung hi bag into the trunk.

"We'll see."

Ben was still in the baby stages of his training as a hunter. It would take years for him to fully understand, and hone the skills he had been taught, not to mention all the things he had to learn in between.

Demonology, spirits and ghosts 101, and all the tricks of the trade that went with carrying on the family legacy, the family business.

Everything that Dean had tried to keep separate from him.


	10. Chapter 10

The gang of three reached San Antonio before sundown, and immediately got to work in setting up a base of operations. Dean, acting on his earlier instinct to give Ben a chance to encounter more sleep, had purchased separate motel rooms for he and Sam.

Ben would stay in one room with him, with a chance to sleep in their own beds.

And Sam would have one room to himself to set up his research equipment.

It was the perfect setup, especially since Dean had the feeling Ben wasn't entirely comfortable with Sam just yet, having only met him twice before in his entire life.

"Are you doing okay?" Dean asked Ben, as he watched the child sort through his clothes that had been squished in his duffel bag.

"Yeah. I'm going to go take a shower."

"Okay, I'll be next door talking to Sam."

"Okay."

Walking out, leaving Ben alone, even if he was only next door, was nervewracking for Dean, but he knew that he had to let go of the chains, even if it was only an inch at a time.

"Hey," Dean said, walking into the room which only had a single bed, thanks to the new privacy Sam was afforded.

"Hey," Sam said, glancing up from his laptop. "What's up?"

"Not much. Ben's taking a shower, and I thought it would be a good time to see what intel you scored on the case?"

Sam shrugged as he removed his papers from the seat next to him, nonverbally inviting Dean to sit next to him, as they discussed the case.

"I talked to the library, found out that the first killings were in 1878, and ever since then, every ten years or so, a new set of killings happen."

"On the same railway," Dean prompted.

"Yes."

"Any idea who the victims were?" Dean asked, as he reached inside the mini-fridge and reached for a beer that they had brought in from Bobby's.

"Uh, yeah," Sam said, as he scratched a spot behind his ear. "Ethel and Alice Whiteboard, sisters, six years old, killed after a train struck them on the railway."

"And ever since then they come back and kill anyone who comes on it?"

"Not just anyone. They kill the conductors of whatever train they're controlling."

"Where are they buried?"

"Eaglehead Cemetery, a few blocks from here."

"Oh, good."

Sighing, Dean stretched his sore muscles as he stifled a yawn. For years, he had been used to driving for hours a day in the car, but now that he was getting older, the same position day in and day out, was starting to wear on him.

"You okay?" Sam asked, studying his movements.

"Yeah, just sore."

"How's Ben?"

"Good. Probably still in the shower," Dean said, as he sent him a quick text to check on him.

"How has he been holding up with everything?"

"You see him," Dean shrugged, avoiding the question.

"Yeah, but I don't know him as well as you do."

"He's handling it the best he can. It's hard."

If there was anyone who understood his position, it would be his father. Dean had watched both of his parents die. That kind of pain never truly leaves a person, and Dean knew that.

"Oh. Good."

"When do you want to head out?"

"Soon as we can. We have all the information we need to salt and burn the bones."

"Were they buried together?"

"Yes."

"Good."

After indulging in a quick cat nap, Dean and Ben met Sam outside by the car, and went over the plan of attack.

"Ben, if you want, you can help," Dean said, glancing at the quiet boy.

"Really?" Ben's eyes lit up at the thought of helping kill his first spirit.

And it made Dean's heart break.

"Yeah, kiddo, you can help me salt and torch the sucker."

"Awesome!"

* * *

The ride to the cemetery was silent, each party absorbed in their own thoughts.

When they pulled up to the wrought-iron gates, Dean got out first, got his supplies out of the trunk and met Sam and Ben by the gates.

"You ready to do this?" Sam asked, looking over at Dean.

"You bet. You ready, kiddo?"

Ben nodded, swallowing convulsively.

Finally, some of his nervousness was beginning to show. The "shoot first, ask questions later" attitude was gone, replaced by an uncertain look.

Once they found the correct grave markers, Dean made Ben stand back, and began the arduous process of digging down to the coffin.

Once the painful work was done and the coffin was exposed, Dean turned to Ben. "Okay, sprinkle the salt around the bones."

Ben nodded, as he handled the bottle with shaking fingers. He needn't have worried, he did a perfect job, enabling Sam to finish the rest of the process, and burn the bones quickly.

"Good job," Dean teased. "For a first timer."

Ben rolled his eyes, as he aimed a punch at Dean's arm. "Not funny."

"I wasn't joking," Dean said seriously.


	11. Chapter 11

As Dean was quickly learning, life was rapidly moving foreword, even if the occupants of that life, couldn't disagree more. Still on a high from his first salt and burn, Ben had been in a better attitude than the guys had seen since his mother's death.

But one milestone was coming up that threatened to derail all of the progress he had made in the two months since Lisa's death.

His birthday.

Turning twelve was a big milestone for any child, boy or girl, but his birthdays had always been spent in the company of his mother, and in the past year, Dean.

Anxiousness about the whole ordeal was quickly settling in as Dean contemplated ways he could make Ben's birthday special, without bringing forth memories of the past that would be too difficult to cope with.

For his birthday last year, Lisa had kept the whole affair small. Pizza and a movie had been Ben's idea of a good day, and so that was what she, Dean, Ben and a handful of his friends had done.

Some action movie that had been all the talk of the town.

Ben had enjoyed it. The smile on his face had said it all.

Now things were different. A year had brought forth many changes, including the absence of his mother.

Dean had no idea how to approach his birthday. It would be a touchy subject with him, especially since it would be his first without his mother.

"So," Dean began, sitting next to Ben as he read his comic books. "You have a birthday coming up."

"Yeah," Ben said noncommittally.

"Do you have anything in mind?"

Ben answered with a shrug.

"You want to go to a movie or anything like that?"

"Nothing good is playing."

"Yeah, that's true. Most of it is about fairies and vampires."

"Mixed in one," Ben said with a rare smile. "What about," he said thoughtfully. "An arcade or something like that?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

Ben's special day consisted of having the meal of his choice, and a cake that Sam had went and bought at the local grocery store. Then, after he had blown out the candles on his cake, Dean took him to the local arcade that had just opened in town.

The exultant look on Ben's face said it all. He was having the time of his life, for once, and seemed to forget all of his problems, even if only for a minute.

Even Dean joined in with some of the games, and of course, indulged himself in the pizza that he had purchased for Ben.

"Mine," Ben said, slapping Dean's hand away when he reached for another piece.

"Okay, okay, touchy," Dean grumbled, as he sipped his own soda. "So overall, has this been a pretty kick ass day?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah, yeah it has."

"Well, good."

Reaching into his pocket, Dean produced a small envelope, and a wrapped box. "Here. It's yours."

Taking it curiously, Ben first ripped open the envelope. Two twenty dollar bills dropped out in his lap, as well as a birthday card that had a picture of he, Lisa and Dean on the cover.

"Thanks," Ben whispered, looking up at him.

"Open the box."

Feeling his heart race, Ben ripped the wrapping from the box and gasped. A new Iphone. Those cost a fortune, even for people who hustled pool and excelled in credit card fraud like his father and uncle did.

"Are you serious?"

Dean nodded. "I am. You've been through a lot, kiddo, and you deserve this."

"Thank you."

"Service and everything that comes with it, is covered."

"Thanks."

Looking at the phone in awe, Ben couldn't keep the grin off his face as he ripped it from its box.

"Make sure that your first contact is me," Dean said, only half-joking. "And make sure that the _second _contact is a hot chick."

"You bet."


	12. Chapter 12

Things had started out steady, and had ended up being catastrophic. Even though Ben, Dean and Sam had been able to enjoy a relatively "normal" few weeks together, free of major hunts, free of any of the stress that plagued them on a daily basis.

But that had all changed with the reappearance of Cas. The fight between fallen angels, and angels had been brutal.

Raphael was dead, killed by Cas, who was now assuming the role of God, and no longer baring any resemblance to the friend and brother he once knew.

It had been exhausting work, and Dean longed once again for the days where things could be calmer again, where they didn't have to constantly be on the run from the various evils of the world.

"So, who was Cas?" Ben asked.

He had refrained from asking the question in the few days since everything had gone wrong. He could see the way his father and uncle reacted when he had gone around the bend, and he couldn't understand who he was, or why he was so important to them.

"He _used _to be a friend," Dean said, trading glances with his brother.

"Why isn't he now?" 

"Because," Sam said, "Cas changed. He was an angel, but then he started a partnership with a demon."

Ben shifted uncomfortably in the backseat. "What demon?"

"The one who killed your mother," Dean said with a sigh. "Cas swore up and down that he didn't have anything to do with it, but I don't know."

Ben was silent as he absorbed those words. "Where to now?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Bobby's."


End file.
